Oh no you didn't!
by qxzky- The Sheaman chapter
Summary: Yes I did. Summary is three words: Lesnar Slash Fluff.


**AN: The nerve of me! **

**Unbelievable!**

**I hope you guys like this one. Please Review!**

It was a crisp night the night of summerslam. Brock stood outside the arena at summerslam in a t-shirt and his shorts, thinking about things and how easy it was to beat Cena. He strolled back inside the arena, to the makeshift ring constructed in the backstage area. He just wanted to be alone now more than ever, and during the event, the mock ring was usually empty.

But this time, it wasn't.

Sheamus was in the mock ring shirtless, throwing around the old eighty pound weight bag like it was nothing. Brock watched him work to a rhythm, and noticed he had The Red, by Chevelle, playing softly in the background, speeding up and slowing down with the song.

Brock crossed his arms and watched the ferocity in Sheamus'a movements. The frustration.

All his life, women, and sometimes men, assumed they knew what Brock liked.

When he worked up the courage to admit what he liked, he was ridiculed, or berated.

So he kept to himself, and imagined.

Time to time, he would ask for a certain opponent, like Undertaker, or Cena, who he thought might be able to handle his preferences.

The rumors about Orton and Cena were only too plain.

The song changed to I Get It, and Lesnar watched Sheamus stand the bag in the corner, just punching and panting with the bassline, even though the music was faint.

Brock smirked, knowing he had done much the same thing at his gym.

Sheamus looked like he was getting tired, so then he looked over at the United States title with his name on it, and let out a frustrated grunt, seeming to get even more angry as he sped back up, the sounds of his fists making impact speeding up until they were almost one long note.

The song changed to Face to the Floor, and Sheamus began kicking the bag in the air and doing scissor kicks, something Lesnar hadn't seen before. His workouts mainly targeted his chest and arms, but he could see Sheamus kept up his legs quite well.

At some point, Lesnar took off his shirt, and his hat, laying them next to the ring. In one move, Sheamus caught the bag with his knees, slamming it to the mat with a growl and punching, as he muttered, "Why, Why,Why"

"Why what?" Brock's innocent-sounding tenor rang out before he could stop it.

Sheamus looked up with a savagery that Brock had never seen in any of his former opponents. A deep frown crossed his face.

"Why couldn't ah peddle that placeholder strap on to someone else!" Sheamus yelled, punching the bag quickly.

"Want someone to actually put up a fight? Because I'm not doing anything right now." Brock asked with a casual shrug.

"Sheamus looked over at him. "If ya tink ya can handle it, fella, c'mon."

That angry frown stayed on Sheamus's face as Brock stepped between the false ropes.

And the sparring began. Sheamus came at him with angry intensity, targeting his knees with strong kicks and using the force of his strong thighs. Lesnar wasn't a minute into their sparring, and slready he was sweating. Sheamus continued the intensity, switching grappling holds quickly as Lesnar began grinning, this time for a different reason.

Sheamus was actually putting up a pretty good fight, even though they seemed perfectly balanced.

An hour passed, and the sweat was dripping off of Lesnar as he looked over at the savage Irishman.

Yup. Still angry.

Sheamus flew at Lesnar again, scoop slamming him into the mat roughly and grabbing Lesnar's arm in the same movement. Lesnar fought out, only to be slammed back down to the mat. Sheamus pulled Lesnar back up, about to do a belly to belly suplex, when he felt something poking...

"Oi!" Sheamus called, snapping his fingers in front of Lesnar's face. "Focus on the foight, fella!"

Little did Sheamus know that Brock was thinking about the match, and how the stamina and ferocity of his opponent would translate outside the bedroom.

Sheamus was completely soft, thinking about his career, and sparring solely to vent his agression. Men like Sheamus and Lesnar were happy to be by themselves.

Sheamus picked Lesnar up for an angled version of the Bautista bomb. Lesnar wound up with his legs around Sheamus's waist, with his ankles not quite locked.

Sheamus moved from a seated position on the mat to a standing position with Brock in his arms, and as Brock's erection made impact with his abs, Sheamus sighed and rolled his eyes, tossing Lesnar almost across the ring.

A small gathering of superstars came to the ring to watch Lesnar fight Sheamus. Lesnar hadn't even noticed them, because he was too busy looking at Sheamus.

Sheamus saw the superstars beginning to gather, and took Brock back down to the mat, punching Brock in the inner right thigh, while being sure to move his hips so he didn't punch anywhere else. Out of reflex, Brock grabbed to shield the area, and Sheamus moved his hand a bit to cover Lesnar's more exited lower head, as he climbed off of Lesnar with a sigh.

Brock stood slowly, being sure to shield himself with that hand.

Sheamus helped him into the locker room in the back as the other superstars dispersed, sad that they hadn't seen an ending to the match.

Sheamus walked him as far as the showers with an air of camaraderie, murmuring,

"Ya're good from here, fella? Thanks for helping me out."

Even though he had heard no backstage scuttlebutt about Sheamus, he decided to take a chance.

"Uh, listen, I know this may not even be your thing, and if it ain't I get it, but, uh, maybe you might like to shower with me?"

Sheamus seemed to think about it for a second, then chuckled. "This isn't gonna end wit just a shower, is it, fella?"

A flicker of self doubt crossed Sheamus's features before he noticed the hopeful gleam in Brock's eyes. He met his eyes in a lustful stare, unbuttoning his pants and turning on the shower to steam. as Lesnar kept his eyes locked on Sheamus's, he felt their bodies meet now entirely free of clothes, and a small, high keening moan left him before he knew it, and his legs wrapped around Sheamus's waist. That moan was answered by a low, rumbling growl from Sheamus as he began to devour Brock's neck with harsh allowing his eyes to flutter shut for a moment, Brock looked back into Sheamus's eyes as he kissed him deeply, shocks running up and down his spine as they both groaned loudly.

After many more kisses, they managed to make their way out of the showers to a few benches nearby, where Sheamus laid out a few blankets and some towels.

And by the time Lesnar and Sheamus were through, they both needed another shower.

Somehow, Lesnar knew it would be the first of many.


End file.
